


Sannie And His Very Real, Made Up Boyfriend

by jnghyncult



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, San dolling-up Yeosang and showing him off to the rest of ATEEZ, because that's the content we need in life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnghyncult/pseuds/jnghyncult
Summary: San has never been secretive about his relationship.It's just that, when you're dating the school's sweetheart, "Mr. Tall, dark and handsome" himself (he's actually not that tall and even less dark), things can easily get quite complicated.And it doesn't help that said boyfriend is rather shy.But things can't getthatbad, can they?





	Sannie And His Very Real, Made Up Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> so I kinda just started writing this one day and it wasn't _that_ bad so I just thought "Why not continue it?"
> 
> Anyway, now, here we are, an 8k word-vomit later!  
> (Thanks to Mama Seal for editing this!)
> 
> So have fun reading I guess! Enjoy!

Kang Yeosang.

 

Probably the most renowned Dance major on this campus.

 

Now, one may ask themselves, “But why is that?”

 

Surprisingly, this question is quickly answered: not only is he attractive to the point it actually gets ridiculous, but he’s also pretty much unapproachable, the “off-limits angel” so to speak.

 

He embodies this exact cliche-type of “tall, dark and handsome”-male everybody seems to be obsessed with. (His type of “dark” has the slightest edge of helpfulness and friendly smiles to have everybody wrapped around his finger from the get-go. Also, he’s not actually that tall; his presence is just so demanding he comes off as a little intimidating without actually trying.)

 

He doesn’t talk much, he doesn’t show much emotion outside of his natural helpfulness, and lastly, he doesn’t give two shits about what his classmates think of him – or the whole college, to be more precise. (People seem to find his level of confidence very attractive.)

 

Moreover, everybody is somewhat intimidated by him, and some are even terrified to the point they avoid making eye contact. (It seems like there are all kinds of rumours circulating in the freshman classes, from model to secret royalty, they went through everything.)

 

He comes to class wearing what he wants and comes with make-up looks done so perfectly even the girls throw hissy fits from time to time. (They never stay mad at him in the end, because he is, quote, “Just way too dreamy to be mad at”.)

 

And as if all of that wasn’t enough, every time he dances one of his original choreographies, the whole class needs to pick up their jaws from the floor of the dance studio afterwards because the various ways he manages to express raw emotion, whilst never losing the fluidity of his movements, and his transitions, become just too much at times. (Rumour has it, one of his dances even managed to make one of their teachers cry in the past.)

 

All in all, Kang Yeosang is the kind of college student everybody wants to either be or date. (If you’d ask, nobody would disagree.)

 

Oblivious to his surroundings and still stuck in his daydream about a particular dance major, there’s no way for one Choi San to notice the spoon smacking into his forehead just seconds later.

 

“Ow! Wooyoung, what the fuck!” he whines, somewhere between crying and anger.

 

“San! Language!” Seonghwa, the oldest among his small group of friends, scolds him.

 

“But he threw a spoon at me!  _A spoon!_  Can you believe that? He threw a damn spoon at me!” he continues to whine, pouting exuberantly just because he knows his pout is magical and nobody can win against him like this.

 

The moment the oldest silently sighs, he knows he has succeeded. (There is no winning against a pouty San - what was he supposed to do?)

 

“You didn’t answer me! Throwing a spoon was my last resort! It’s your fault for not paying attention anyway!” Wooyoung complains.

 

“You could have tapped my shoulder as well, you know,” San replies, still somewhat furious.

 

“I know I could’ve, but why would I do that? That’s, like, no fun at all,” the younger talks back, grinning, obviously proud of himself.

 

“Just don’t throw a spoon or something the next time,” San complains again. “What do you want, anyway? Can’t I have my lunch in peace?” All Wooyoung does in response is give his dumb, what San calls, “I-know-you-better-than-that” smirk.

 

And San hates it!

 

He absolutely despises it! 

 

“Oh Sannie, my dear Sannie, my dear innocent and pure sunshine, I know you were daydreaming again. You can’t fool me,” he retorts smugly. “Seeing you helplessly crushing on the most unapproachable person in this school is kind of hilarious, you know? I greatly enjoy your suffering.”

 

“For the last time: I’m not crushing on Yeosang, he’s my boyfriend!” he grumbles, more out of frustration than anything else. “I’ve told all of you several times, Yeosang is my boyfriend! B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D!” Scratch the frustration part, he’s borderline fuming right now. “You can stop trying to set me up with strangers or a friend of your friend’s friend. I’m perfectly happy, to be honest! I don’t need some random guy from the street! Why won’t all of you understand that?”

 

Even Hongjoong, who is probably the most responsible adult out of all of them and designated San-supporter, agrees with the others this time.

 

It’s frustrating.

 

Infuriating, even!

 

“Even you, Hongjoong-hyung? Even  _you_  won’t you believe me? I even showed you our text messages!” With that said, San practically bangs his head against the table, hands grabbing and pulling on emerald-green strands of hair out of pure frustration and anger.

 

“That could have been texts from anybody, Sannie. If you want us to believe you that badly, bring him with you the next time. It’s not that hard, you know,” the second-eldest suggests.

 

“I want to, I do, but he’s shy, and he’s scared you won’t like him,” San explains, calmly, as if all his anger has suddenly vanished. He adds, “Which is ridiculous by the way, because he’s such a loveable and adorable person, and I think all of us would get along great.”

 

“Okay, I hardly believe that Kang Yeosang,  _the_ Kang Yeosang, the resident ice-prince, is too shy to get to know a group of six people?” Wooyoung says, sceptically raising one perfect eyebrow. “You could have come up with a better one, bro.”

 

At this point, San is beyond frustrated, all his anger back in an instant.

 

“I’m telling the truth here, okay? Sangie most definitely is my boyfriend, and he’s a shy person!” San tries again, with a combination of yelling, whining and frustrated gesturing all together.

 

Yunho, his newly elected best friend – because honestly, fuck Wooyoung – pats him on the shoulder encouragingly. “I know Yeosang is, like, your ideal boyfriend or whatever you said, but you should let it go at some point, don’t you think?”

 

Okay, he takes that back, fuck Yunho too.

 

His head meets the surface of the table, yet again.

 

"I need some new friends, seriously..." he thinks, sighing into the tabletop. He loves his friends, he really does, but sometimes he just wants to smash their heads into the nearest wall available.

 

It’s only natural. Everybody has this urge from time to time...San thinks so, at least.

 

The banter and endless teasing go on for quite a while, and San might be getting some wrinkles from all the angry grimaces he keeps pulling.

 

It continues until San must leave for his last class of the day, which is all the way across the campus in the Art Department. He doesn’t share this class with any of his friends, which finally allows him to have a break from their constant teasing and take a breather. 

 

"I’m glad none of them are in here actually, because if only one of them would be a fashion major too...that would entail a whole other level of humiliation for me," he thinks. (He really is a blessing to his friends, isn’t he? Not letting them attend their classes in their messy-ass outfits they put together themselves. Truly an angel.)

 

Now, San has always been an outstanding student, consistently paying attention and taking nice and neat notes; however, even he has his limits. (Pulling an all-nighter, getting annoyed by his friends all day combined with boring stories told by his professors are the three main factors.)

 

At some point, not even coffee helps anymore.

 

So it’s only natural that even a model-student like San doses off at some point.

 

He stopped counting, but when his History of Costume professor went off on the 27285th tangent and told a story about her child doing the most basic and mundane things, he just closed his eyes and let the darkness take over. (Her child is nine years old, and San really doesn’t need to know about all the times that little brat caught any bug, thank you very much.)

 

"Maybe I’m more tired than I thought after all..," he thought.

 

~

 

When the lesson was finished, and San’s consciousness returned just a few minutes later, it’d be an understatement to say he was only a little bit disoriented. (He was woken up by the friendly TA named Minghao.)

 

San had no idea where he was and why he was woken up in the middle of his History of Costume class, judging by the utter confusion on his face, the yawn he let out after being woken up and the little bit of drool which has accumulated at the corner of his mouth.

 

He was barely awake enough to leave the classroom, and therefore he ends up stumbling his way out of there, as well as the Art building as a whole.

 

Maybe he ran into some of his classmates, but at the moment he didn’t really care – he’s cranky and just wants to sleep.

 

‘Damn Yeosang and his cute ass self,’ San thought. Who could’ve known that his boyfriend’s constant begging for hugs, and sometimes even a few kisses, would have him stay up late (read: all night) to finish some design projects and ideas because he has deadlines to meet.

 

However, he’s not mad after all, because cuddling with Yeosang has become his favourite ACLA (after-class-lazing-around) activity these days. (He’s glad Yeosang has started to come out of his shell and doesn’t shy away from San’s ever ending attacks of love and physical affection anymore. The better part of the last year he spent with Yeosang has been the best one yet.)

 

And that’s precisely what he needs right now.

 

Hugs and kisses from his boyfriend. (And maybe also a cup of hot chocolate, because who could say no to hot chocolate?)

 

All he wants right now is to be pampered and loved by the person he trusts more than himself. All he wants right now are soft kisses and hushed whispers.

 

He’s quite desperate for it, to be completely honest.

 

And that’s how he finds himself in front his boyfriend’s dorm – just down the hall from his room, the one he shares with best friend (read: ex-best friend) Wooyoung – dead tired and ready to let himself fall into his strong, toned arms and chest. (He has to thank Jongho for dragging him to the gym on an almost daily basis at some point.)

 

Therefore, he does the only logical thing he can think of: he lets himself fall forward as soon as the door opens, hoping someone will catch him.

 

In hindsight, that probably wasn’t his best idea to date, as it could’ve easily been Jongho, Vocal Performance major and Yeosang’s best friend, opening the door. Not that it would’ve mattered, because Jongho is a fucking monster who practically lives and breathes exercise, so he’d have no problems catching him. (He could probably use San as a barbell actually, and that’s why he might just be a teensy bit scared of the younger.)

 

But it was Yeosang who opened the door. ‘God bless,’ San thought, as he let his arms fall around his boyfriend’s tiny waist and buried his head in the ridiculously soft hoodie he was currently wearing, absentmindedly mumbling almost inaudible gibberish; something barely resembling a “Hello”.

 

The barely older boy let out an exclamation of surprise, but San didn’t bother to listen, already halfway lulled to sleep by strong hands instantly beginning to stroke his nape and back, as well as the calming scent of pine, wood and an underlying freshness that is so distinctly “Yeosang”. (He wouldn’t have it any other way.)

 

From then on, San’s mind is foggy, and he feels somewhat fuzzy, high on his boyfriend’s gentle, reassuring touches and calming scent.

 

He barely registers being dragged inside the dorm and Yeosang laying them both down on his bed, as gentle as ever.

 

The last sensation he feels – before sleep claims him once again – is the calming feeling of hands softly running through his hair and messaging his scalp.

 

With a feeling of security and in utter bliss, he cuddles closer to his lover and let’s sleep take the reigns.

 

~

 

Yeosang just finished his shower and threw on one of his favourite hoodies when there was a knock on the door.

 

He didn’t expect anybody to come over. San had yet to reply to the messages he recently sent, and Jongho was not supposed to return for roughly two more hours. Therefore, he had no idea who would be waiting at the other side of that door.

 

Imagine his surprise, when he had a whole Choi San – resident social butterfly with enough energy for three people – clinging to his frame, almost falling asleep standing up.

 

He was a bit overwhelmed at first, but calmed down quickly, especially after he felt San going completely pliant in his arms, practically melting into him.

 

Yeosang really couldn’t help the cooing sound escaping his lips. (Can anybody really judge him though?)

 

He made it his mission to get him to bed as fast – and not to mention as gently – as possible.

 

Yeosang quickly realised that his attempts to strike up a conversation, with the boy clinging to him like a lifeline, were futile. San was pretty out of it. (He got a few responses that sounded more inhuman than anything else, but he takes what he can get.)

 

Not wasting any more time, he laid himself down on his bed, even though it was somewhat difficult not to simply fall over because of the dead weight that was his boyfriend.

 

Somehow, he managed to lie down without waking up the sleeping boy, hands shifting to run through somewhat recently dyed hair. He’s still trying to figure out how he makes green, probably the most atrocious colour anyone could dye their hair, look so effortlessly perfect. (He’s pretty sure it has to do with him being a Fashion major.)

 

For a while, he can’t really say if it was just for five or fifty minutes he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, yet still absentmindedly continuing to stroke the mess that is San’s forest-green head of hair.

 

He finds it amusing, how San manages, that even after dying his hair, roughly estimated, 187 times, it’s somehow—miraculously really—still healthy and soft like the fur of a well-groomed cat.

 

A soft smile makes its way onto Yeosang’s lips.

 

To him, San is a whole enigma.

 

The two of them have been together for a little less than one year.

 

As he’s thinking back, it dawns on him that they actually met each other entirely coincidentally, and hadn’t Yeosang asked his cousin’s friend to help him find somebody to make clothes for his dance performances, they wouldn’t have ever met at all. His cousin’s friend is a TA in the Fashion Department of his college, so Yeosang thought he’d know a few good people. (Turns out he does.)

 

Truthfully, their first meetings were a bit awkward, both clearly attracted to each other – if the constant blushing was any indication whatsoever – but simultaneously too shy to speak their feelings.

 

However, they got over that phase of awkwardness rather quickly, and fast forward about four or five outfits and performances, they found themselves with their eyes closed and hands intertwined, sharing shy kisses under the aureate gleam of the old streetlights in front of their dormitory.

 

Their first kisses were tender and unsure; lips delicate but demanding at the same time, cliched butterflies and sparks.

 

However, their first unsure and somewhat inexperienced kisses naturally flourished into something more profound and meaningful, both boys overcoming the initial shock of plump lips meeting for the first time.

 

That day, they parted ways with blushing faces, lips red from extensive kissing and a euphoric feeling of happiness. (Probably one of the happiest and best days in Yeosang’s lonely life up to this point.)

 

Yet, when Yeosang’s shyness had him often shying away from San’s displays of physical affection, he stayed; he was patient and understanding.

 

And if Yeosang wasn’t in love with his boyfriend before, after these first months of their relationship, he definitely was then.

 

And he was in it deep.

 

Jongho always teases him and says, “Would you look at that, the cold heart of the ice-prince, Kang “Jack Frost” Yeosang himself, getting melted like butter in a hot pan.” (He’d never say anything in return and just smile instead.)

 

To him, San is an enigma.

 

He remained patient with him and managed to coax him out of his shell with sweet kisses, regular cuddles and copious amounts of physical affection in general.

 

He stayed, not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. He didn’t pressure him into doing anything he wasn’t yet ready for. (San later told him all about his friends but never once mentioned meeting them.)

 

In the past, nobody had bothered with him, he was always the shy kid with no friends – aside from Jongho, because the younger literally bulldozed his way into Yeosang’s life.

 

Therefore, having somebody remaining by his side because they were genuinely interested in him was a completely foreign concept.

 

These days, he’s probably the happiest he’s ever been in his whole life, all thanks to a sometimes too loud boy who is way too cute and adorable for his own good.

 

He couldn’t help smiling. The feeling of San lying on his chest, face buried in his neck and clutching the thick, soft fabric of his hoodie with his fists, is the cause of an intense and powerful feeling of content blooming in his chest.

 

It gives him this feeling of pleasant warmth all over his body.

 

He revels in this warmth, lets it soak deep into his bones. He craves the comfort and love; the love and happiness he feels right now in this exact moment.

 

To him, San is an enigma. An enigma that saved him from himself.

 

In the end, Yeosang doesn’t know how much time passed since he started his little trip down memory lane, but he could swear that he heard the door open. 

 

Yeosang is also pretty sure he heard somebody saying “I’m back” just now; however, he’s not sure.

 

What he’s sure of, is the fact that he for sure doesn’t mind the pleasant weight of San on his chest and the warmth radiating off of his body gently lulling him to sleep.

 

What he’s sure of, is the fact that he definitely doesn’t mind the warmth spreading in his chest and the rapid beating of his heart as he pulls San closer, hands coming to rest at the sleeping boy’s waist, settling on warm skin where his shirt rode up his torso.

 

In the serene and intimate atmosphere of the small bedroom, both San and Yeosang subconsciously clinging to each other and relish in the other’s presence, falling into deep slumber without any difficulty.

 

~

 

Several hours later, when the skies outside were already tainted in bright oranges, mild reds and soothing yellows, Yeosang woke up to faint piano melodies (it’s most likely Jongho practising in the living room), soft touches caressing his face and nimble fingers ghosting over the warm skin underneath his hoodie.

 

A sigh of pure contentment leaves his lips.

 

He doesn’t want to move.

 

Like, ever again.

 

He decides he just wants to lie here with San in his arms because he’s way too comfortable to do anything else right now.

 

But of course, things don’t always go as planned. (At least not when a certain Choi San is involved.)

 

When San starts to leave soft kisses on his neck and his collarbones, he can't help but squirm and giggle. (San just decided once more that Yeosang’s giggles are his favourite sound, period.)

 

“Ah, Sannie,” he says between soft giggles, “stop, that tickles.” Contradictory to his words, he pulled San even closer to his body.

 

“Alright, Babe, if you say so I’ll stop,” the kissing perpetrator spoke, mischief clearly shining in his eyes, “but Sangie, I wanted to ask: did you go to the gym a lot this past week?” he asks innocently, drawing figure eights on his boyfriend’s chest.

 

“Hmm, maybe?” said boyfriend replies, “why are you asking?” he mumbles into the mess of green hair, leaving a small peck or two.

 

“Oh, no reason, really, you just seem so much more....pillow-y today?” he says while poking Yeosang’s chest with his fingers. The ‘victim’ only whines in return, opting to bury his face in the various pillows, instead of the younger’s hair, blushing furiously. (He was mumbling into the pillow, and San was unable to understand anything at all.)

 

“Hey, babe, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I like it, don’t worry,” he quickly reassures him. “Now that I think about it, I should have you wear more fitted clothing just so I can enjoy the view even more than I already do.“

 

‘Oh god, please don’t let me die of embarrassment right now.’ Yeosang just wanted to disappear at this very moment, somehow still not used to the other’s cheeky remarks and wit, as well as the constant teasing.

 

“Oh come on, you big baby! You wouldn’t die of embarrassment, and you know it yourself. You literally wore a crop top and ripped jeans, which were barely resembling pants anymore because they missed so much fabric, just recently," San deadpanned.

 

This time the whining just intensified.

 

San, the self-proclaimed and so-called “Yeosang whisperer,” of course managed to de-escalate the whole situation, and after a few more cuddles (and also dangerously wandering hands from both parties), they were pretty much back to square one: soft kisses and even more snuggling.

 

They only managed to separate themselves from each other when they heard sweet little Jongho calling for them.

 

As soon as the “Hyung!” sounded from the living room, Yeosang groaned.

 

“Can you go and look what our child needs, please?” he begged, pressing further into the mattress and pillows – probably trying to become one with the bed. “I really don’t want to move right now.”

 

“Alright, I’ll be the responsible parent this time, I’ll wait on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate until you join me for proper cuddling,” San responds as he untangles himself from the mass of blankets on Yeosang’s bed.

 

However, just to spite his boyfriend, he forgoes his put-together outfit, rids himself of his clothes and throws on sweats and a big hoodie – courtesy of the blond on the bed. (Yeosang once mentioned offhandedly that San in his clothes is irresistible.)

 

When San chuckled as he left the room and let the door fall shut, it’s because he knew he’d won yet again, if Yeosang’s muffled “I hate you” was anything to go by.

 

And if he smiled fondly, because Yeosang reacting like this is honestly way too cute, nobody needed to know.

 

“Yes, Jongho, darling, sweetie? What is it that you need, my dear?” San called and proceeded to sit down next to the younger boy. (He’s always had a flair for a dramatic entrance, so an introduction such as this one wasn’t really unusual.)

 

~

 

Contrary to San’s belief, it took Yeosang a rather long while to leave his makeshift nest of blankets and pillows behind.

 

It was quite surprising, to be honest.

 

"He must’ve had an equally as bad day as I had today," was a thought which crossed San‘s mind absentmindedly.

 

However, after what felt like thirty-five songs sung by Jongho, and San profusely thanking the vocalist for dragging his boyfriend to the gym even more, because he greatly appreciates the result, (Jongho just threw him a look full of judgement and scoffed. A “go be a pervert somewhere else” was added when the youngest shoved him off himself), the blond-haired dancer walked into the room.

 

He looked quite out of it, standing there with his hair mussed by sleep and clothes wrinkly from lazing around all afternoon.

 

Despite it all, glorified mess and everything, he was the most ethereal being in the room, the setting sun dowsing him in a heavenly glow, softening sharp angles and highlighting milky skin.

 

If San stared at him a little longer than necessary, Jongho wasn’t going to point it out. In fact, he was quite happy, finally seeing somebody look at Yeosang like he’s their whole world and more. He gave a small smile.

 

He remembers all the hours he spent comforting a crying Yeosang because everybody just used him and faked friendships just because he’s handsome and his family has a lot of money.

 

But now San’s come into their lives, and San is here to stay.

 

These days, because of him, Yeosang smiles again – bashful and happy, all perfect teeth and sparkling eyes.

 

And looking at them at this very moment, Yeosang literally _pressing_ San into their leather couch after plonking himself down onto him, he wants San to stay as well.

 

“Hey! Old geezers! I’ve called you to go out and treat me to food! Your child is dying of hunger and famine, so take me out,” the youngest exclaimed, already next to the door putting on his shoes.

 

In return he only gets – oddly in sync – “But we’re  _way_  too comfortable right now, Jonggie. Can’t we go later?”

 

Nevertheless, after roughly half an hour, the three college students entered the favourite barbecue restaurant of the youngest among them, one beaming, the other two tired and whining.

 

Jongho never knew that the words “Bold of you two to assume I wouldn’t pick you up by the scruff of your necks and drag you outside,” have his two favourite Hyungs hurriedly jumping off the couch and scrambling to get their shoes on.

 

What a great discovery indeed.

 

~

 

The following day, San spent his lunch with his friends again – much to his dismay. (He loves them like his brothers, he really does, but they’re a bit too much most of the time.)

 

To say he pretty much got assaulted once he sat down would be an understatement. There was just so much happening at the same time.

 

It almost was a bit scary.

 

There was screaming, shaking, even more screaming, and just general chaos all around.

 

There wasn’t much he was able to understand, but apparently, it was something about Yeosang? He’s not really sure if he understood Hongjoong correctly with the way the others were screaming over him, especially Wooyoung, but that’s old news anyway.

 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay!” he shushed them. “Would somebody please tell me what the fuck is happening? I’m a bit lost right now.”

 

Wooyoung, in his usual extravaganza, begs to explain as to why they’re currently going bad shit crazy—not that they don't do that usually, which they totally are—probably daily.

 

Apparently, the lot of them went out to eat barbecue yesterday and saw Yeosang with two other people in the same restaurant.

 

“And you’re telling me this because?” San questions, very much confused.

 

“It seemed like Yeosang’s dating one of them, because they sat very close and he kept feeding them all evening,” Yunho explained further, “however, we couldn’t see that person’s face, because they sat with their back to our table. We couldn’t even see a hair colour because of that damn hood!”

 

‘The universe must really be against me,’ San thought solemnly.

 

“But why are all of you so obsessed with Yeosang and his possible partner?” he asked his friends.

 

“Well, can’t you see? The, I repeat,  _the_ Kang Yeosang dating? The literal embodiment of ‘tall, dark and handsome’? Can you believe that? Don’t you wanna know what kind of person he’s dating?“ Mingi says.

 

“I’ve told you several times that the person dating Yeosang is me. Actually, we’ve been together for almost a year now. Where do all of you think I’ve been all these nights I wasn’t in our dorm room?” He gestures to Wooyoung. “Or did you just assume I did something else?” he scoffed.

 

“Also, FYI, I was the person with the hood yesterday, as well as the person he constantly fed, because I worked my ass off the night before and didn’t sleep,” San ranted, “but  _you guys_ choose not to believe me, because I don’t even know why you don’t.”

 

San was mad, livid and every other adjective that describes the feeling of extreme anger. He dropped his metal chopsticks on his tray again.

 

With a curt, “I’m done, excuse me,” he stood up, left the lunch table and headed straight for his next class, his food not even touched once.

 

For the remainder of his lunch break, he called Yeosang and complained about his friends and how much he hates the way they make him up to be this disinterested and apathetic person.

 

Nevertheless, the outcome was Yeosang talking San into apologising to his friends and forgiving them.

 

Though San drives a hard bargain, he didn’t agree without getting any benefits for himself.

 

A full, joker-like grin made its way onto his face. 

 

Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for the weekend to come; he’s beyond excited as of right now. (He even apologised for his outburst at lunch in their group chat and quickly told Wooyoung not to worry and that he has a definite place to sleep tonight. Nevertheless, things were rather tense between San and his friends for the rest of the week.)

 

~

 

When the weekend arrived, San was extremely hyper—more so than usual anyway.

 

But who could really blame him? He managed to persuade Yeosang – who’s currently lying beside him, still asleep – to meet his friends. Furthermore, he also agreed to let San choose his outfit, and he’ll go with whatever he wants.

 

And he’ll get to apologise to his friends in person, too. (He’s been kind of avoiding a run-in with them; likewise, he hasn’t been sleeping in his own bed for the past few days.)

 

If he didn’t know any better, today seems like an early birthday present.

 

Now, he only needs to do one thing on this beautiful Saturday morning: Choose an outfit for his man that will rob his friends any ability to speak. (Or do anything else aside from staring at the artwork that is his boyfriend.)

 

So he just laid there, imagining all different kinds of outfits and how they’d look on the other.

 

He had so many good ideas, it was almost impossible to choose.

 

However, he needs something with the right kind of ‘OOMPH’ to completely blow it out of the park.

 

That’s when he remembered how his friends lost their collective three brain cells over Mr Kang Yeosang in a crop top.

 

This was the spark he needed.

 

With a rough idea in mind, what's left for San to do, is putting it all together.

 

Being the fantastic Fashion student he is, it took all of five seconds for San to find the rest of what he wanted. (And maybe he chose these clothes because he really wants to admire this newly jacked-up edition of his boyfriend, but that’s not really important.)

 

About two and a half hours later, San was currently sitting in a hair salon getting his hair dyed together with a still barely awake Yeosang.

 

While San received the finishing touches for his new and rather impromptu new hair colour, Yeosang sat on the side, his hair freshly dyed and cut.

 

To be perfectly honest, he didn’t expect that dyeing the older’s hair back to his natural ebony black colour would have this much of an impact on everything. As soon as he was finished and asked how he looked, the air was robbed out of San’s lungs – he was not prepared to be rendered speechless right there in a hair salon somewhere in their neighbourhood.

 

There was just something so entirely...bewitching and captivating about Yeosang with black hair. He can’t really pinpoint what it is, but he suddenly just seems like a wholly different person; everything he does suddenly just seems so...alluring, and all he’s doing right now is sitting in a chair and waiting.

 

About twenty minutes later, as soon as San was finished entirely and when they were on their way to the nearest shopping mall, everybody’s eyes seemed to be on them.

 

It was weird, two college students in oversized hoodies and sweatpants getting mistaken as idols on the street. (However, neither of them could say they minded the attention, to be honest.)

 

Originally, San only planned to get some wire-framed, square aviator-esque glasses for his man because he really wanted to see how they look like on him (if they’re going to be anywhere close to the prescription glasses the other seldom wears, he has no complaints), and a few accessories, but with San being San, they left the shopping mall with several bags of clothes. ("I should really learn how to say no to Sannie," Yeosang thought as the swiped his card at yet another register, but in actuality, he didn’t mind one bit.)

 

~

 

After arriving back Yeosang’s dorm, San immediately forced the older to go and take a shower because “you look gorgeous with your new hair and all, but you didn’t shower yesterday night before bed, and you stink.”

 

Meanwhile, because he had nothing else to do, he chose an outfit to wear for himself. (Just because it’s more for his boyfriend than it is for him doesn’t mean he can’t go out looking very good himself.)

 

When Yeosang finished his shower, San was ready to give it his all. (Well, first things first - he literally choked on air because the older walking into the room without any clothes on, aside from his underwear, was somewhat unexpected, though it was much appreciated.)

 

“Now, darling,” he clapped his hands, “are you ready to be responsible for the death of my friends?”

 

Yeosang wasn’t really sure what to make of the expression of childlike glee on the others face – because how’d he excited for the death of their friends – but he likes the way he seems to be bursting with happiness and energy, so he just smiled and nodded, because happy and energetic San is his favourite San. He didn’t continue without stealing a quick kiss first, because San in a beret is just way too cute and irresistible.

 

If San threw the clothes right into the other’s face because he was blushing quite hard, nobody had to know.

 

“Now take all your ministrations and go get ready, you big-ass flirt,” he utters while pushing him away because having his lover basically naked all up in his face didn’t really help to make him less flustered. (Before Yeosang left, San kissed him, because San's a courteous boy and he has his manners.)

 

“Also, here! Put these on!” he called as he threw a pair of black saddle holster suspenders right at his face.

 

As a response to his boyfriend’s confused “Where did you even–” he only gave a quick “Hurry up, love” with a cheeky wink. (Now it was Yeosang’s turn to be a flustered and blushing mess.)

 

If you ask Yeosang, he’d say that San was entirely too smug as he saw the way Yeosang scrambled to put on the clothes that were prepared for him.

 

"He looks pretty adorable when he’s embarrassed. I should do that more often," the younger boy thought, already forging plans to make his friends witness this side of his partner.

 

For the most part, they got ready quietly and quickly – save for the times San almost messed up his make up because Yeosang was just way too distracting in general – up until San had a fully clothed Kang Yeosang, commonly known as the epitome of perfection, beauty, and grace, sitting between his legs (the older on the floor, himself on the bed) ready to get his hair done.

 

Over the past year of dating “Jack Frost” – as Jongho called him sometimes – he learned to notice the little things about him; from the way Yeosang covers his mouth when he’s laughing, or how Yeosang rips up the label of bottles when he’s bored. 

 

San knows them all.

 

And he knows – as soon as he sees him sitting there, knees pulled against his chest, resting his head in them and fiddling with the fabric of the sneaker socks he’s wearing – that something is wrong.

 

He decides it’s his duty, as his partner, to soothe and drive away any anxiety hiding in the corners of the other’s beautiful mind.

 

“You know that you can tell me when something troubles you, right, Baby?” he spoke quietly, running his hands through soft raven hair, working in the styling product. It was still slightly damp from the shower he took earlier.

 

The other relished in the comfort of the impromptu scalp massage he’s currently receiving. San smiled when he felt Yeosang leaning his head back, practically sagging into the side of the bed.

 

A few moments of silence lingered in the room, only being disrupted by the quiet humming of San and Yeosang’s soft, almost inaudible sighs of pleasure. It was a peaceful and calm atmosphere.

 

“It’s just...,” the raven-haired boy started, “It’s just...what if—” He stopped again.

 

“What if? You can tell me, Babe, really,” San encourages him.

 

After a few more seconds of silence – and unsure squirming on Yeosang’s part – he said, “What if they don’t like me after all,” in the smallest of voices.

 

“Oh, Baby! They’re gonna love you, believe me! Hell, I’m pretty sure all of them have at least some kind of crush on you,” San reassures him, cradling his boyfriend’s head against his chest and enveloping him in what has to be the most awkward back hug ever.

 

“But you know how I am with new people...” Yeosang argued again. “I constantly find a way to make them drop me twenty seconds into a conversation.”

 

“You really don’t have to worry about them, Babe. They’ll behave, I promise,” he said as he pulled a hairdryer from god-knows-where.

 

After that, both of them remained mostly silent, finishing up diligently. San and his boyfriend were finished in no time. (Well, if forty-five minutes can be considered no time.) With a few minor corrections to makeup, hair, and accessories, they were set and ready to go.

 

As they were about to leave, Jongho marched through the door, almost hitting San in the process.

 

“Ah! Jongho, my child, I was just looking for you!” the designer (read: Yeosang’s personal designer) exclaimed, casually ignoring that his head was almost smashed with a door.

 

“Oh? You were looking for me?” the youngest wondered.

 

“Yes! You see, Yeosangie and I are on our merry way to kill my friends, would you like to join us? What do you say, hm?”

 

The younger just looked at him with blatant confusion. “Okay? But why is Hyung wearing a–,” he stopped, finally making sense of the situation, “Ohh, I see.” Yeosang, who was standing in front of their full-body mirror, adjusting a knit cardigan which seemed to be more of an overcoat than anything else, was paying no attention to the two of them.

 

“If you come with us, it might even be a win for you, because I might have a friend who is as much of a pun enthusiast as you are,” he explained further, trying to woo Jongho into coming with them.

 

“You had me at ‘pun’. Please throw together an outfit for me, and I’m in,” Jongho beams, suddenly all for it. San just wordlessly turns around and follows the vocalist into his own room, fully ready to raid the boy’s closet. He found an outfit rather quickly, which was no surprise, considering the brunette boy dresses well, even when San doesn’t have a hand in helping him.

 

When San came back into the living room, he found his boyfriend sitting on the couch, his head was thrown back and his eyes closed. (His neck looks way too inviting in San’s personal opinion.)

 

And that’s why he goes over to him, seats himself in the other’s lap and kisses him square on the lips, fingers entangling themselves in [ perfectly styled ](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ChxvN65eKD-OBSBSvX9nF8uHY70Qrex7/view?usp=sharing) locks of raven hair. At first, it was an awkward mix of teeth and bumping noses – that’s San’s fault though, Yeosang almost jumped out of his seat.

 

After a few moments, Yeosang pushed his lover back, pouting and whining because gave him one hell of a scare right there.

 

However, San wasn’t really listening, too distracted by the lips of the boy opposite him. He just cut out everything but Yeosang’s lips. His boyfriend’s blabbing gradually became white noise in his ears.

 

Sometimes, in moments like this, when they’re pretty much alone, and San can’t help but stare at the person who owns his heart, it becomes clear to him how awfully attractive Yeosang is.

 

He’s all sharp angles, healthy physique and cold demeanour. He’s like a perfectly carved marble statue, most likely made by the likes of Michelangelo.

 

Yet, he’s also unblemished and soft pale skin, warm and loving eyes – the deep, rusty brown with an amber ring around the pupil even more breathtaking when hit by all but the last rays of sunlight at dawn – as well as small, intriguing smiles.

 

Right now, thoroughly prepared to go out and meet his friends, nothing seems to matter but the way Yeosang looks at him. Suddenly, San feels an overwhelming amount of love and adoration for the person who’s currently scolding him.

 

He keeps staring at Yeosang's face, stares at his mouth moving, stares at his lips. He stares until each and every thought in his mind revolves around kissing his boyfriend.

 

He surges forward, intent on devouring him like a starving carnivorous beast, intent on biting his bottom lip until it’s even fuller and red than usual.

 

When he was right in front of the other’s face, so close that he could feel every gentle intake of breath, so close that he could make out the littlest details in the older’s face, both pairs of eyes fell shut, anticipating the touch of soft and eager lips, ready to feel the euphoric rush of ecstasy. (Yeosang’s always oh-so responsive — leaning into San’s touch, sighing and heavy breathing, even though they have yet to do anything at all.)

 

That’s when Jongho threw his door open, which resulted in a loud bang that sounded through the entire dorm.

 

The way San and Yeosang flew apart was almost entirely too comical – Jongho literally curled up on the floor laughing.

 

This whole ordeal ended in a laughing Jongho being chased around the dormitory by an enraged San, who was almost as red as the highlights in his hair, and Yeosang, being the old soul he is, just remained seated on the couch clutching his heart, because he swears he felt himself go into cardiac arrest just now.

 

~

 

When San arrived at the cafe where he’s supposed to meet his friends, he ran only a few minutes late. (Damn Jongho and his muscular legs for running so fast.)

 

Like they’ve planned beforehand, he arrived alone, raising no suspicions about what was going to happen once the six friends talked about their little dispute at the beginning of the week.

 

Now, after reflecting on his behaviour, he felt somewhat embarrassed about how he acted like a complete brat. He actually slightly dreads talking about it.

 

Nevertheless, he has brought it all upon himself, and he has to face the consequences at some point. So he did what was right and sat down and talked with his friends.

 

Their talk lasted for about twenty-five minutes. They talked about everything that was left unsaid about what had happened. At some point, Wooyoung had even started whining about how much he misses San and how miserable he was alone.

 

After all of them fell back into their usual banter and teasing, that’s when San deemed it to be the perfect time to give his friends the shock of their lives.

 

He sneakily texted his boyfriend that he and Jongho could leave for the cafe now. He was excited, he was ecstatic! He sat back, waiting for the spectacle to unfold.

 

When the two of them finally entered the cafe fifteen minutes later, San had to stifle his laughter.

 

This whole situation was absolutely hilarious.

 

It didn’t even take thirty seconds for the two newcomers to be spotted. Different theories were already being discussed with hushed voices and whispers.

 

“Hey, guys! Isn’t that Kang Yeosang over there?” Mingi whispered.

 

“Oh my god! It totally is! But who’s the other one? I don’t recall seeing them together at all,” Wooyoung inquires. “Yunho, do you know him?”

 

“Isn’t that Jongho?” Yunho replies. “Like, as in Choi Jongho, the kid who pulled that huge-ass crowd when we had this one event last year?”

 

“Ah! I remember! The one with the amazing voice!” Hongjoong affirmed. “What happened to him? He looks so strong and scary! I remember him being rather shy and cute,” he adds.

 

On the side, Yunho just quietly said: “Well, he looks pretty hot like that, I’m not gonna lie.”

 

“Okay, but let’s address the elephant in the room: Kang Yeosang has black hair now!  _Black hair_!” Wooyoung nearly screamed. “This is not okay. Honestly, I feel so attacked right now.”

 

While his friends continued their debates about Mr Kang Yeosang and how good he looked with his new hairstyle and how amazing he looked in oversized cardigans that literally almost reach his ankles, San just chose to admire the scenery that was his boyfriend.

 

Knowing his friends, he trusted them to sit at their usual table, which results in a perfect view around the cafe, especially the counter area. And right now, San was very grateful.

 

Because, goddamn, his boyfriend looks damn good leaning against the counter of a cafe – if he dares say so himself.

 

Furthermore, he did a damn good job choosing his outfit.

 

Sadly, Yeosang chose to use the big cardigan to hide the rest of his outfit, for now, wrapping it around himself, so the only piece of clothing visible is the collar of the off-white crop top underneath. (He didn’t really mind in the slightest, he looks so utterly soft in that big cardigan, it’s quite endearing to look at.)

 

He’s already excited about what will happen when Jongho gives him the drinks to carry and therefore exposing the perfection that is the toned stomach of his boyfriend.

 

However, it still should take a bit for their order to be ready, so San just continued to state at the other – shamelessly, without caring if anybody looked at him weirdly.

 

To be honest, he can’t get enough of Yeosang with his hair styled like this: textured and kind of messy-looking. Simply perfection, in his own personal opinion. The older voiced his concerns when they were at the hair salon, and he was about to get his hair permed. But being a Fashion Major with a plan in mind, San reassured him and told him how great it’ll look when they’re finished.

 

And he’s delighted they went through with it because he looks genuinely magnificent. Moreover, adding the glasses he bought at the mall – he saw Cha Eunwoo wear them in a photoshoot once, and San just had to have them – was perhaps one of the best ideas he ever had.

 

But if he were frank, he didn’t put Yeosang in this outfit for his friends - he more so did it for himself. It’s been nigh eternity since he’d seen his boyfriend in suspenders, and he used his chance to kill two birds with one stone. (Who’d be mad about seeing Yeosang in black saddle holster suspenders? Right, literally no one.)

 

Not to mention, the black leather against the milky white skin of the older’s stomach and abdominal muscles created the most heavenly of contrasts – San really should have him wear stuff like this more often.

 

Then, complete and utter chaos happened in the blink of an eye.

 

Yeosang took the drinks from Jongho, ready to head over to them, but he halted instantly when he saw the commotion happening at Sannie’s table.

 

Mingi choked on his drink, spitting the bit he just drank right into the face of Seonghwa, who was sitting in front of him.

 

Wooyoung’s jaw literally dropped, and his eyes widened.

 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa remained rather unaffected, but that’s just because they sat with their backside to where Yeosang was coming over from.

 

And Yunho? Yunho was busy staring at Jongho because, as he explained later, the young vocalist just looked way too good in a white button-down, fitted grey-ish slacks and matching suspenders. (Yunho also said he looked like the perfect drama-boyfriend, with his neatly styled comma hair and the open cuffs of his nicely fitted button-down covering his hands.)

 

“Please tell me I’m not hallucinating. Is Yeosang really wearing a–,” Wooyoung started.

 

Before he could finish his sentence, San answered, “Yes, yes he is,” with a smug smirk and crossed arms.

 

All in all, San was rather satisfied with their reactions – precisely what he was rooting for.

 

What he didn’t expect were all the comical reactions his friends made as soon as they noticed the two newcomers walking in the direction of their table.

 

“Are they really coming over here!?” they whisper-yelled. “I didn’t prepare for this at all! What are we gonna do?! Why are they walking towards us?! Somebody help us!” Mingi freaked out.

 

At this point, San couldn’t help but laugh a little – though he chuckled into his hand just to be safe.

 

San took pity on his friends and decided to swoop in and save them from further embarrassing themselves as soon as the other two were close enough. They were somewhat close already anyway, so he didn’t have to wait long.

 

He greeted his boyfriend by placing his hands on the soft, bared skin of the older’s waist, pulling him against his own body and kissing him.

 

With tongue and all, just to spite his friends and because Jongho oh-so rudely interrupted them the last time.

 

After they parted, San tugging Yeosang impossibly closer by the material of the other’s suspenders, he smiled at him. Of course, the older reciprocated the smile.

 

His hands were still holding the two cups of coffee, and he spoke in his grave and smooth voice. “Hi, Babe,” he greeted, giving the younger a short peck on his smiling lips. “Here, a vanilla macchiato with extra cream, cinnamon powder and a tiny shot of caramel, just how you like it.”

 

Quickly thanking him, San prompted the two boys to sit down, plopping down into his boyfriend’s lap as soon as he was seated, and leaned back into his chest – San thought it was more comfortable to sit that way, anyway. (Judging by the arms encircling San’s waist, Yeosang didn’t mind either.)

 

“Ok, Sannie,  _What the fuck!_   _How the hell did you, of all people, manage to keep something like this from us_ ?” Wooyoung – of course, Wooyoung, who else could it be – shouted. "I've been your friend for  _four_  years!" 

 

San just threw his head back laughing; loud and wholeheartedly.

 

“I never lied to you, did I?”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this little work of mine! 
> 
> If you want to see me writing something in particular, let me know in the comments or HMU on twitter [@jnghyncult](https://www.twitter.com/jnghyncuIt)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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